Drums In The Deep
by Spirits Among Stars
Summary: Rewritten. These are the last moments of Ori and Tiril in Moria. "They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes, drums... drums in the deep. We cannot get out."


**A/N: So I recently watched BOFA (don't worry no spoiler here) and I wanted to change some stuff in this. This is rewritten again (I can ever make up my mind up) I'll be deleting the older one of this story because this will take its place. I also noticed quite a few mistakes and I'll be righting them.**

**Warning: Character death.**

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><p><strong>Ta. 2994<strong>

_They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes, drums... drums in the deep. We cannot get out._

"Brace the gate!" The surviving Dwarves braced their strength as the door was beaten by a huge Cave troll. Then silence.

Ori, the Scribe turned warrior, was ushering out orders after Balin, son of Fundin, had fallen trying to protect the last colony of Dwarves in Moria. He was shot by an orc archer at Mirrormere. But thankfully, the trolls and goblins retreated to gather their reinforcements over the course of the night, so, while they waited, the dwarves had made a tomb for the fallen hero. Óin was taken by the Watcher in the Water by the Hollin Gate as his troop of dwarves tried to escape.

While the moon was still high and the sounds of drums quaked, wounds were being healed and the last of the rations were being distributed. Ori was sat beside Balin's tomb writing in the Book of Mazarbul. Another one of the Dwarves wandered over and sat beside him, sliding a bowl of slop towards him. She glanced over at the Book.

"We should have never retreated here." She looked up around to the handful of Dwarves left. "The battle in the halls is just the beginning, we won't last. This shall be our last stand..." She sighed and run a hand through her matted grey hair. "The last stand in the Chamber of Mazarbul."

"I know the battle is useless but we must hold, Tiril." Ori replied. "Besides, I thought you enjoyed battles?"

"I do," Tiril nodded slightly. "But not one like this. This, we will surly lose. Plus fighting with one arm isn't fun." Ori fiddled with the spoon in his bowl. "They are gathering to wipe us out, the last colony of Moria." Tiril glanced towards the feeble barrier and sighed.

"We'll fight for everything. Dwarves will know what happened here." Ori poked at the book and then looked at Tiril. "We'll fight for our family. We'll fight for the future."

Tiril rested her head against Ori's shoulder. "We still fight well for old Dwarves, my dear."

"Yes, we do." Ori said with a smile. "I hope to see them again."

Tiril nodded. "Me too."

Suddenly there was a thundering boom of drums and every Dwarf head whipped around to look at the door. The ground started quaking ferociously and swords, axes, hammers and maces were wielded. The Dwarves sitting jumped to their feet and those standing moved to a fighting stance. One of the Dwarves nearest the door moved and peered through a tiny hole.

Tiril glanced to Ori to find him writing one final sentence in the Book of Mazarbul.

_A shadow lurks in the dark. We cannot get out... they are coming..._

The Dwarf at the barrier was pieced with an arrow to the skull. He collapsed backward with a thump. Tiril grabbed Ori and hauled him to his feet. "For Moria."

Ori nodded and flourishing his own sword. "For Moria!"

"For Moria!" The Dwarves yelled in chorus.

Thus they fought through the night 'til a red dawn. Blood splattered everywhere and bones were broken but the goblins and trolls didn't relent. They pushed forward continuously and then there were a few Dwarves left. Ori sliced left and right cutting down goblins but no matter how hard he tried more and more retaliated. A goblin archer shot Ori in the chest and the cave troll thumped him into Balin's tomb. He collapsed against the cold stone expelling the air in his lungs.

Tiril fought with all her might but it wasn't enough. Distracted, another goblin charged forward, tacked her to the ground stabbing her in the gut with his bloodstained sword. Tiril gasped and fell to her knees clutching her wound. She searched around for Ori. The troll slammed her with his club and propelled her against the tomb. She fell like a ragdoll against it.

The goblin cheered and chattered in black speech. Dwarves lay dead at their feet. They were going to leave the dying to die.

"T-Tiril!" Ori gasped breathlessly. She was at his feet, her axe by her side.

It was excruciating to look in his direction. They were very pale. "Ori... my dear husband." She spattered.

Ori could fell himself grow cold. "Tiril, my dear wife." The Dwarf-lass moved her hand as well as she could into Ori's and he gripped it tightly. He grabbed the book with his free arm. "We shall see our friends again."

Tiril nodded. "All of them but-"

"I know. Our children."

Tiril gasped hoarsely and tried her best to look at Ori. "Oh Ori." Breath left her.

"T-Tiril." Ori took his last breath and fell into Mandos. There, they were reunited with lost loved-ones of the past.


End file.
